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BOHEMIA'S LAND.
A Song of the Season.
Which Is the way lrom the crowded city,
To a land of shadow and silent peace,
Where women can love and men can pity,
And tears from sorrowing eyes may cease ?
For the tolling town Is harsh and hollow,
And hale points eastward, envy west;
Though manv may fall, yet some will follow
To a home of dreams and the haven rest.
For the love of heaven, stretch forth
your hand,
And point the way to Bohemia’s land.
Whe*-e are the fields and their emerald cover,
The wayside flowers aDd travelling cart,
The new-lound love and the long-tried lover ?
. They are better by far than our feverish art,
We are sick unto death ol Jealousy’s letter,
The secret digger, the ceaseless strife;
There’s triumph in fame, but lreedom’s bet
ter ;
Bo give us a taste of a wandering life.
The senses sicken as fancy’s hand
Paints endless love in Bohemia’s land.
Bohemia’s ways are strewn with flowers,
H>r children free from the revel of wine;
Her dual is s’aked by the sweetened showers,
'Neath covering trees they toast and dine.
When care creeps close, why away they wan
der
To seek whatever the mind loves best;
For hope endures when the heart sees yonder
A purer life and a surer rest.
Hew many despise, but how few with
stand,
The ceaseless joys of Bohemia's land.
To the fields away t for Nature presses
On toiling foreheads a balmy kiss;
There’s nothing so sweet as her wild caresses,
No love more lull to the lips than this.
God grant, my brothers, when all Is over,
And holiday hours cut short by fate,
That the seuse ol flowersand scent of clover.
May solten sorrow and silence hate,
Old Time soon meashres the fatal sand.
And the curtain falls on Bohemia’s land.
—[Clement Scott.
Mrs. Davenport's Dilemma.
Mr. Davenport hated society, but
Mrs. Davenport adored it, and so like
amiable married people they agreed to
differ, and each to go their own way,
quite cordially enjoying, after the
battle was over, narrating to each
other what had happened, and count
ing up the dead and wounded. When
Mrs. Davenport was very young Mr.
Davenport had carefully accompanied
her to her carriage, and sent her maid
to take care of h(r, and had himself
sat up to receive her when she re
turned. But as she grew older this
sensitive care relaxed, and as he found
that she was quite content to go alone,
he allowed her to do so,'with the
family coachman on the box. She in
her turn was entirely determined that
he should not be deprived of his natu
ral rest, but should allow some lesser
and more youthful satellite to sit up
and watch for her as she came home
late from opera or ball.
There had been talk of a night key,
but Mrs. Davenport thought that
looked too masculine, and she also had
a suspicion that she should never
learn how to use it. It U a secret
difficult of solution to the feminine
mind, that of a latch key. So Mrs.
Davenport, strong in the confidence of
her husband’s love, serene of con
science, and enjoying the devotion of
a large family of servants, who loved
her, went off to Mrs. Appleby’s ball,
on the evening of November 12tb,
looking lovely.
The bail was a large and tine one,
and Mrs. Davenport enjoyed it. She
would have left at one o’clock, but
that Herr von Dergmans, the German
philologist, was presented to her, and
1 talked so well, and was so evidently
inspired by her bright eyes, that she
|^ayed on; and then the hostess had
^e great singer, Larumburmani, who
Bust be spoken to in Italian, and
Kirs. Davenport spoke Italian with
"the true Tuscan purity.
So she left the ball very late. Stiek-
nell, her coachman, was sleepy and
cross, and af er depositing her at her
number (which is thirty-nine by the
way) he drove off very quickly. It
was a flue night. Mrs. Davenport
liked to look at the stars, and she
,zed up admiringly, almost regretting
k ve a scene which decidedly paltd
irnamentation of the ball room
ig she had just left.
Was destined to see a great deal
if these same stars than she had
tined for on that particular night,
oman !
rung sharply. $fobody came,
•ang, rang again and again, but
ly came. Mrs. Davenport began
|1 chilly about the feet, which
delicately clad in white satin
and silk stockings,
wrapped her fur clock about her
[ooked up at number thirty-nine,
n familiar brownstone house.
;n of movement, although the
id in the hall. She rang and
response. And then she
’that she was looked out, that
ly was asleep, and thtdtthere
^ stay the rest of thwight,
•ered, jtlas, too IsA. that
tlenian of African descent, who had
been known to go to sleep on these
night watches, to let her in. Now he
seemed to be sunk in the deepest obli
vion. But then, if Orlando slept,
some one else had generally waked,
and either roused him, or let her in,
individually. Mrs. Davenport shud
dered. A night on her own front
steps!
She kept on ringing desperately.
Presently a policeman came along,
and to him she appealed.
“ Oh, got a key ?” said he. “ Let
me help unlock the door.”
“ But I have not got a key,” said
the miserable woman.
“Bad, bad,” said the officer. “I
never knew them to wake up. How
ever, I will rap for you.”
So he pounded the blinds with his
club aqd made a terrible noise. Two
or three heads looked out of the oppo
site windows. One invalid raised a
window and begged that her rest
might not be ruined.
“ Lady locked out,” sang the police
man.
“ Well, is that any reason why you
should try to wake the dead?” asked
the irate clergyman opposite.
The policeman walked on, leaving
Mrs. Davenport in despair.
“ Haven’t you any mends in this
neighborhood?” he asked.
“ I should think not,” said she fee
bly. t
She drew her fur cloak about her
and sat down on the door mat. She
had not regarded that useful article in
the light of a divan before; now she
was glad of even that medium between
herself and the cold doorstep. To
weep would not mend the matter; to
ring and pound, and rattle the blinds
was useless. "Everybody was asleep.
She had been forgotten. She, the core
of the whole thing, the mainspring of
that establishment. Her husband and
children and her servants had, each
trusting to somebody else, gone to bed
and forgotton her.
She looked up at the moon and
stars, at Jupiter and at several other
illustroius denizsns of the sky, and
found them cold and unsympathetic.
She began to think of her sins, and
feared that she had not been suffi
ciently kind to homeless outcasts.
Even the cats, who were the only peo
ple abroad in her quiet street, came in
for her sympathy.
“ They have a hard time, poor
things,” said she, “always locked
out.”
It was a cat, however, who gave her
an idea.' Evidently a predatory Arab
of a cat who thought he owned her
front steps, for after stealthily creep
ing up and finding her in possession,
he leaped on to a neighboring bal
cony. She looked after him,
“Dr. Montgomery’s—and a speak
ing tube !” said she. “ Why did I not
remember that before!”
Mrs. Davenport drew up her long
yellow satin train, laid her fan and
handkerchief on the doorstep, and as
fast as high heels and satin slippers
would allow, went dowD her own steps
and up those of her neighbor who
lived at thirty-seven.
“ He is a doctor accustomed to be
awakened at all hours,” said she.
She rang and heard a sleepy voice
come down.
“ What do you want ?”
“ Help! help 1” said she.
“What help? Who? What num
ber?” a^ked the doctor.
“Thirty-nine; great trouble! Im
mediate!” said Mrs.-Davtnport.
The doctor seemed to b > hours in
coming down. She was nearly in
despair again, but at length he opened
the door in his heavy overcoat and
hat.
“Oh, doctor! doctor! let me in!”
said the lady, now quite h>sterical.
“Your house is warm, do let me in,”
The doctor was, of course, aston
ished to see his fashionable neignbor,
but hospitable and helpful.
“Wll| you go up and knock at the
partition wall in your front room, doc
tor, and try to wake Mr. Davenport?”
said Mrs. Davenport, now ill tetfis.
“ Yes, madam, if you say so. But
had you not better spend the night
here?”
“What, next jdoor to thirty-nine I
Oh, no! I could not, I must go home.
Please, doctor, if it will not disturb
Mrs. Montgomery, do go up and make
a dreadful noise at the bead of Mr,
Davenport’s bed ; it leans up against
your parlor, for he always hears your
piano,” , .
The doctoT obeyed, and knooked
loudly on the wall.
Mr. Davenport heard a distant thun
der in his dreams, turned over, with
his deaf ear up and slept again.
ing, Mrs. Davenport consented to al
low the sleepy doctor to retire to.his
well-earned repose, whilst she declared
that she would rest as well as she
could in an easy chair down in his
consulting room.
Thirty-seven, thirty-nine and fortj’-
one were at peace at last, and Mrp.
Davenport, wrapped in her cloak and
in a warm room iu the house of a
neighbor and a friend, grew composed,
and finally laughed at her adventure.
It would be a good joke next morning;
but as for Orlando, her colored waiter,
there was a lookout for him of the
blackest! Then poor Mr. Davenport,
how alarmed he would be ! But she
would watch and see the servants
begin to open the house, and steal in
before he waked up. So saying, she
fell sound asleep in the chair.
At length, Mr. Davenport, like all
heavy sleepers, woke up suddenly and
entirely. Ha did not know why, but
it seemed to him that he had a dis
turbed night. As he lay tiying to col
lect his faculties, he heard the clock
strike four.
“How quiet Coralie is !”said Mr.
Davenport; “tired after fhe ball, I
suppose.”
Mr. Davenport listened to hear,
through the open door and curtained
recess, the quiet breathing of his wife
in the next room. She was strangely
still, and Mr. Davenport arose softly
and crept in to see what could be the
matter.
“Heavens!” said he; “ nobody in
the bed! Coralie not home at four
o’clock!”
Mr. Davenport paused a moment.
Could the horses have run away?
Could the coachman have been drunk?
That had happened before. Could his
poor wife have been thrown, dragged
—no, the idea was too horrible. Could
she have been locked out. He felt the
cold perspiration start on his brow.
He rang every bell in the house; be
proceeded to dress himself. He
danced, In his agony and agitation.
Then, as his sleepy servants began to
appear and one after the other dis
claimed any knowledge of their mis
tress, he descended to the front door.
There lay Mrs. Davenport’s fan, hand
kerchief and gloves. She had been
home; she had failed to gain admit
tance ; she had either been ruthlessly
carried off, or she had committed sui
cide. Mr. Davenport lost his head.
“ She may have gone to her sister's
or to some hotel,” said her maid.
“ What, at three in the morning,
you wretched sleepy head I” said Mr,
Davenport wildly.
To discharge Orlanda, to go for the
police, to rouse the world, these were
his first ideas. He rang up every sig
nal officer in town. The whole ma
chinery of public service was at work
to find the missing lady.
Mr. Davenport went after his coach
man w’lio, though fully testifying to
the fact that he had been drunk, could
swear that he left the lady at her own
door, at about half-past two iu the
morning. To take a carriage, to drive
to Mrs. Davenport’s sister’s, to all the
hotels, these were toe duties which
the wretched mau took upon himself.
In the meantime Mrs. Davenport
slept sweetly iu the doctor’s arm chair
uutil the housemaid coming in, ut
tered a loud sliritk aud cried—
“Bibbers!”
To pacify her, to rouse herself, to
step, nut of the doctor’s front door and
into her own house was the work of a
moment. Mrs. Davenport found all
of her people at home and thoroughly
awake, but where was Mr. Davenport?
Knowing his temperament, Mrs. Da
venport felt sure that he would not
return until he had dragged the E ist
river. She was at home, all right,
and proceeded like a culm woman to
get off' her ball dress, satin shoes and
silken hose, and to put on her dress
ing-gown, take a cup of tea, get warm
and then reflect upon what should be
done with Mr. Davenport’s esse.
“ It will all be in the papers,” said
her prescient soul. “ This very even
ing at the farthest; I will telegraph
everywhere,” she remarked, ringing
for a messenger hoy.
‘ “tlello!” said a man at the signal
station; “ this is queer! Here is a
man trying to find his wife, and now
there oumes along a woman trying to
find her husband, and they are both
named—Davenport.”
“ I dare say—nothing to each other
-common name—coiqcideuce,” said
the telegraph operator, who had
learned to talk in jerks.
“ Let me see the number ?” said tA
sigpal man.
. “ Thirty-nine. Yes; It Is the same
queer case!”
Wonder what iu all means?”
before
gard man was found standing on the
brink of East river hugging a fan, a
pair of gloves and a handkerchief.
When he was taken home, after the
usual expressions of mingled affectious
and disgust, anger, joy, reproach and
great contentment, which all married
pairs will remember, and furnish fer
themselves, Mrs. Davenport remarked,
plaintively:
“ Why did you not think of Dr.
Montgomery’s, and the speaking
tube?”
“ I don’t know why I never
thought of it; how did you happen to,
Coralie ?”
“It was the cat!” exclaimed Mrs.
Davenport, gratefully.
Mr. Davenport, unwilling to trust
to this somewhat uncertain benefaC'
tor, had a bell put in which now rings
in the garret, and a speaking tube
which communicates with his own
room ; aud Mrs. Davenport carries to
all the balls now a large and inconve
nient latch-key.
Instructive.
Ants may be easily destroyed by dis
solving sugar of lead in water, and
moistening brown sugar with the solu
tion. The sugar is then spread upon
pieces of paper or shavings, and these
are scattered about where the ants run.
C. W. states that the green fly upon
house plauts can be disposed of by
sprinkling weak tobacco water on the
plants.
Its Origin.—The Chinese are very
expert in telliug the time of day by
looking in the cat’s eyes. They will
run to the nearest cat, open her eyes,
and at once tell what time it is,
all depending upon the size of the
aperture of the pupil of the eye, which
is affected by the position of the sun
and the character of the light, even
when the day is cloudy. This method
probably gave rise to the well-known
nursery rhyme:
Hickory, dickory, dock.
The mouse ran up the clock.
Weather Wisdom.—When you
wish to know what the weather is to
be, go out and select the smallest cloud
you can see. Keep you eye upon it,
and if it decreases and disappears, it
shows a state of the air that is certain
to be followed by fair weather; but if it
increases in size, take your great coat
with you, if you are going from home,
for falling weather is not far off. The
reason is this : When the air is becom
ing charged with electricity, you see
every cloud attracting all lesser one3
toward it, until it gathers into a show
er ; and, on the contrary, when the
fluid is passing off, or diffusing itself,
then a large cloud will be seen br iak-
Lng into pieces and dissolving.
Medical Attendance by Tele
phone —A few evenings ago a physi
cian of North Adams, Mass., was
called by telephone about one o’clock
at night. The call came from Briggs,
about two miles away. A child was
there suffering with croup, and in a
critical condition. The night was dark
and stormy, and the doctor found
nothing pleasant in the contemplation
of the trip which he was asked to
make. When preparing to go out into
Ihe darkness and rain, his mind con
ceived a bright thought, which was
immediately followed by act. He
called the Briggsville house in which
the little sufferer lay, and requested
the pareuts to bring it to the telephone
transmitter. This was done. The
child coughed its croupy cough, and
the doctor listeued iutently to every
sound that came from his patient. He
piescribed a remedy, and owe of the
family prepared and administered it.
The relief was immediate and the re
covery rapid. The doctor waited at
the telephone uutil he heard of the fa
vorable results of his prescription, and
then sought again the repose of his
couch, pronouncing blessings on the
inventor of the telephone.
Startling Announcement.
The editor of a certain weekly paper
within a h ndred miles of this city
makes a practice of “stopping the
press to announce” if he had nothing
of more importance to announce than
“a dog fight.” One eveuing^rery-
thing was dull as a patent ofliceSport,
but the ruling passion cropped out as
follows: *4Ye stop the press to an
nounce th^L nothing has occurred
since we to pre«s of sufficient
interest to us to stop thelfcress
to annoum
William
tractor^
appe
ride, a prol
tinnd cil
The Age of Great Expectation
It is perfectly true that our age has
a thousand times the resources of any
that preceded it, but the question still,
remains, “Does it use them to a thiur
sand times better purpose?” He must
be indeed a sturdy optimist who can^
bring himself to answer that question
in the affirmative. That it is an age
of great opportunities there can be no
doubt; that it is not simply what
critics like Carlyle and Mr. Buskin
1 have represented it to be: “the
age of money-bags and cant,
soot, hubbub and ugliness,” may be
granted ; nor need it be denied that in
such high matters as science, religion
and social organization “great things
are in the air.” But in theie respects
it can only be called at best ‘the age
of great expectations,” and great ex
pectations are sometimes very slow in
getting realized, after the precedent of
Mr. Micawber. We may perhaps be
on the eve of the millenium, but as
yet we discern no signs of the dawn.
There is one very simple way of test
ing the comparative moral value of our
progress. Of the sudden and enormous
change in our external and material
life between 1782 and 1882, a change
beyond all example or idea or expecta
tion of any previous period in the
world’s history, there can be no man
ner of doubt. But it may well be ques- .,
tioned if England was not as much |
wiser, stronger, and better in 1782 than
in 1682, and iu 1682 than 1582, as it is
better now than in 1782 ; and if we
were to go further back the change in
these respects would be still more
noticeable. Or again, compare Eng
land with other European countries;
the material progress has been very
much more rapid hero than anywhere
else, while in some countries, liljjl
Spain, there has been hardly any a, t
all. “Has the relative position of these'
nations in the scale of true civilization
altered so much? Not at all!” If
from moral we pass to scientific pro
gress, it is obvious that to place the
marvelous tools of modern science be
side those used by Copernicus or Gall]
leo would be like putting a moderi
ironclad by the side of a Chinese junk.l
But will it be pretended that in sci
entific genius the age even of Faraday
and Darwin towers above that
Newton and Herschel, or of Bacc
Liebnitz and Descartes? “You mt
raise your mechanical apparatus o!
science a thousandfold, you do not
double your scientific genuis once.”
Still less could it be plausibly main,
tained that we have advanced in phil
osophy or in art, or in the quality of 1
our literature, immense as is the I
increase in quantity, when the press
turns out more matter in legible type
every day than in Dr. Johnson’s time
it turned out in a year, or in Shakes
peare’s time in a century. We have
not excelled Mozart or Beethoven in
music, or Beynolds and Gainesbor-
ough in painting, not to speak of the]
great painters of au earlier agt% “Wg
are as much superior in material
pliances to the men of Milton’
aud Newton’s day,as they were to"
glians or Zulus. Are we equally si,
perior in cultivation of brain, heart
character, to the contemporaries
Milton and Newton ?”
It may perhaps be argued that, if n]
serious claim can be preferred to anj
moral superiority at all corresponding
to our huge material advance, we have
al least gained much in all that add]
to the grace ^ni charm, “the bloomi
ocial life.” But such a claim is haw
more admissible than the other,
it really be maintained that life a hun.
dred or two hundred years ago, befc.'
steam, electricity or photography ex-,,1
isted, was so cramped aud helpless a
thing, so borne and ill provided?
“Somehow it was not.” In some ways
indeed, this very same material ad
vance, with all the hurry aud skurn
of modern life—if such a phruse maj
l>e allowed—has served to rub off thf
bloom, as Mr. W. B. Greg was nevej
tired of reminding us.
Edward Wiser, 41 years old, a work
man in a wood-turning shop in West
Twenty-Fourth street, New York,
was caught in the shafting of the
maoliinery aud had bothhis legs
broken, besides BUBtalflUaMkumin-
ternal injuries, aud
hospital in a dying condit
The Supreme Lodge of Knights oil
Honor at its session at Baltimore'
adopted measures locating the general
headquarters of the Order pamia-,
nently at Louisville, Ky., and remoy^
the office of the Supreme Tres
' om SpriusA^^md ol
• Beporterl